


The Morning After

by cinelitchick



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Break Up, Drunk Tomas Ortega, ExoWriMo, Gen, Musicals, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 20:41:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13772136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinelitchick/pseuds/cinelitchick
Summary: Mouse recounts to Bennett the next morning what Tomas got up to the night before.





	The Morning After

There was a knock at the front door. Mouse groaned, but got up off the couch. She had been trying to nap since she got next to no sleep the night before, but Father Devon Bennett had text he was on his way over. After that, sleep had been futile.

She opened the door of the bungalow the sisters at the Convent of the Holy Cross had graciously loaned to Bennett when he had sought shelter for Mouse and Father Tomas Ortega. Tomas’ standing in the Church was dubious at best, but since the sisters loved Bennett it did not really matter.

“What the bloody hell was so important you had to show up at this Godforsaken hour?” Mouse demanded.

“It’s ten-thirty,” he replied drolly. “Why do you like death warmed over after it threw up on itself?”

Mouse scrunched her nose and stood aside to let him in. He was wearing his clerical uniform, complete with collar.

“There’s a Keurig with, like, a hundred different pods. Help yourself. I’ll grab a quick shower.”

Twenty minutes later, a freshly showered Mouse appeared in the kitchen feeling better. She wore black leggings and a baggy, navy blue sweater with handmade thumb holes in the sleeves. She grabbed a pod and deposited it in the coffee machine. Once the beverage had brewed, she sat down at the small table opposite Bennett.

“So what happened last night?” Bennett asked after she had taken a sip from her mug.

“Tomas attempted to self-exorcise,” Mouse replied tonelessly.

Bennett sat up even straighter in his chair, which was impressive considering he already had impeccable posture.

“What?!”

Mouse sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Not that type of demon.” She took another sip of coffee. Mmmm. Black and bitter like my soul. A small smirk played on her lips.

“Oh.” Bennett relaxed a little. “How bad?”

Mouse pulled a knee up as her foot rested on the seat of the chair.

“He bought a six-pack of hard lemonade and watched ‘A Star Is Born.’ Judy Garland.” Her blood pressure rose as she remembered what ensued.

"During 'The Man That Got Away', he kept shouting at the screen, 'Sing it, Judy!' and 'That's right. You tell 'em, Judy!' Then, after the movie was over, he found the bloody song on YouTube and played it over. And over. And over. Singing along every fucking time. By the sixth time, I was ready to take whatever drugs had killed her and shove them down his throat!"

Bennett calmly looked at her, silently judging.

"Don't you dare judge me."

He slowly took a sip from his mug, replacing it on the table before he spoke.

“I take it there’s more.”

Mouse groaned, dropping her forehead to her raised knee.

“By one-thirty, he had switched to belting out ‘I Will Survive’ a few times, then ‘All By Myself.’” She paused, raising her head. “Actually, he may have been watching one of those ‘Bridget Jones’ movies for that last one. Why do I know this?!”

Bennett was valiantly attempting to keep from chuckling. He really just wanted to let out a long, loud laugh. He did not because he valued his life. He respected and admired Mouse, but she scared the crap out of him. That said, he was undoubtedly enjoying her discomfort.

“That does sound unpleasant.” He tried to be supportive.

"It gets worse."

Bennett was skeptical, but morbidly curious.

"Worse than the cliché of Gloria Gaynor?"

Mouse put her foot back on the floor and leaned forward, her face deadly serious.

"Harry Nilsson. 'Without You'."

"I would have shot him in the face,” Bennett deadpanned. “Put us all out of his misery."

Mouse smiled. She loved it when Bennett showed off his sense of humor. She kept forgetting he had one.

"Not so judgy now, are you?"

He begrudgingly smiled in return and gave a small chuckle.

“You have my sympathies,” he said.

She sighed, leaning back in the chair and tilting her head all the way back.

“Then came Jean Valjean.”

A look of horror shot through Bennett’s features.

“Tell me he didn’t sing the whole score.”

She brought her head about to look him in the eye.

“Just ‘Who Am I?’ at the top of his lungs. At four-fucking-fifteen in the morning!”

Mouse got up from the table. She started grabbing ingredients from the refrigerator and the spice rack. There was chopping and dicing. She, then, pulled out the blender and dumped everything into the glass container. Before she punched a button, she walked over to Bennett.

“The really annoying part?” she confessed in a hushed tone. “He’s actually got a decent voice. I fucking hate that.”

She walked back to the blender, switching it on and letting it do its thing for a few minutes.

Bennett wondered what she hated more: that Tomas had a decent voice or that she liked his decent voice.

Mouse had just poured the contents of the blender into a glass when Tomas shuffled into the kitchen.

He looked like shit. There was really no nicer way to put it. He was wearing the top sheet from his bed as a toga for Christ’s sake. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked like had not slept in at least a week. Drinking away his pain was doing him no favors — even if he did wear that sheet toga really well.

“Was I making too much noise?” Mouse asked sweetly. “I was trying to keep it down.”

Tomas glared at her with what little energy he had.

“You failed.”

She handed him the glass filled with green goop.

He looked at the liquid. Disgusting was the first word that popped into his brain. Frankly he was impressed any words had been able to form in his alcohol-soaked gray matter. Is it shimmering? he wondered. He looked at Mouse.

“I’m not drinking this.”

“Considering you pounded a six-pack of hard lemonade and the half-bottle of vodka I had tucked away in the bookshelf —“

Surprise played on Tomas’ features, followed by quickly by shame.

“That’s right. I know — you would do well to drink up.”

He groaned.

“Free will or the chair.” She nodded at the seat she recently vacated. Mouse had no issues with treating him like a man possessed. The thought of tying him up and pouring that vile crap down his throat gave her a thrill. Payback for keeping her up all night.

Tomas groaned again.

“Lord give me strength.” He chugged the drink, though at one point he seemed dangerously close to throwing it up.

“No no no. Keep going. Just ignore the gag reflex,” Mouse told him in a misguided attempt to be supportive.

Tomas emptied the glass and put it in the sink. He stood stock still for a couple of minutes to see if whatever the hell he just drank would stay in his stomach. Looking good.

Bennett, who had been observing the entire episode, privately gave Tomas kudos for either his stupidity or valor. He was not sure which nor was he sure it mattered.

“You would make a wonderful mother,” he told Mouse, “to a serial killer.”

“Why exactly are you here?” she shot back.

Bennett remained silent.

She told Tomas to go take a shower.

“And for the love of all that is holy, brush your teeth!” she called out after him. “Your breath is rank!”

Mouse wanted to clean up while Tomas was showering, but realized she could not run the water since he was using it. A mischievous grin appeared on her face. Why not? She was still pissed about last night. She flipped up the handle on the spout, allowing the water to flow into the sink for a few seconds. Just long enough to hear a scream from the bathroom.

“You’re a child,” Bennett scolded.

“Seriously, why are you here?” Mouse shot back.

“It’s boring at the convent,” he replied simply.

“Fair enough.”

Tomas re-entered the kitchen ten minutes later. He was dressed in a gray T-shirt and black sweatpants, his feet bare and his dark hair wet. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and joined his friends at the table.

“Feeling better?” Mouse asked him.

He nodded.

“Much. Thank you.”

She nodded in response.

The trio sat in silence for a few minutes, each drinking their respective beverages.

“Sorry about my song choices last night,” Tomas apologized.

Mouse waved him off. “It’s fine.”

“Any requests for tonight?” He leaned over, placing his hand on her forearm. “Though nothing too strenuous for my decent voice.”

Mouse’s eyes popped just a bit as she stared murderously at Bennett.

“I didn’t say a word,” he assured her as he smiled and took a sip of his coffee.


End file.
